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Damon:A Bad Boy MC Romance Novel(7)

By:Meg Jackson


But every time she looked at the empty space across from her in the booth, she remembered something else.

The person she wished was sitting there. The one person she wanted to see.

That strange and unavoidable longing seemed to get stronger by the  minute, and even overcame her hunger as she picked at her sandwich.  She'd been looking forward to it, an old slice of heaven that had never  ceased to make her happy. It smelled just like she remembered it. But  the few bites she took didn't taste right. Or, at least, it didn't taste  the same. It didn't really taste like anything. The conversation around  her slowly receded into background noise. Her shoulders slumped. She  played with a fry, twirling it in her ketchup. She told herself, again  and again, to cheer up. Enjoy herself. Stop thinking about him.

"Trish?" Ricky asked, softly, reaching across the table to take Tricia's  hand. Tricia looked up, blinking, coming back to the present moment.  "You okay?"

"Not really," Tricia said, surprising herself with the truth. "I … I kind of want to go."

"Okay," Ricky said. "Let's get the bill and … "

"No," Tricia said, hurriedly. She looked around; no one was even half  finished with their meal. "You all go ahead and eat. I'm just tired. And  I kind of want to be alone."

"Don't be silly," Ricky said, waving her hand dismissively. "We'll all go, I'll … ."

"No, really," Tricia said, her voice firm. "Please, stay. I really just  want to take a walk and get some air and have some time to myself. I've  been with you guys since I got here."

Ricky opened her mouth to protest, but Cristov squeezed her shoulder.  Ricky looked at him sharply, clearly ready to argue her point. But she  surrendered when he nodded, and Tricia felt a surge of gratitude towards  him. Kim reached over, rubbed Tricia on the back with her palm, smiling  gently.

"Just be careful walking back, okay?" Kim said.

"It's like five minutes," Tricia smiled. "I'll be fine. I'm sorry to  leave, I really wanted this to be a nice night for everyone but … I think  it was just a little soon."

"Sure," Kennick said. "We'll do it again some other time. Whenever you feel like it."

"Thanks," Tricia said, rising from her seat, immediately feeling a rush of relief. She reached for her wallet.

"Okay, now that is not okay," Ricky said. "We got you on this one,  Trish. You barely touched that sandwich. Do you want me to bring it home  for you?"

"A cold oyster po'boy? No thanks," Tricia shook her head.

"Awesome," Cristov muttered, reaching over the table and pulling the  plate towards him. He still had half a burger on his plate, but his eyes  were lighting up like an arcade game at the prospect of more food.

"You're disgusting," Ricky said, clearly fighting a smile. "We're breaking up."

Cristov took a huge bite of the sandwich and turned to Ricky, chewing loudly, swallowing even louder.

"That's fine," he said. "I was planning on having an affair with this po'boy, anyway, and I really didn't want to be a cheater."

"I guess a full stomach can keep you warm at night," Kim said, her eyes laughing.         

     



 

"Smart woman," Cristov said through a mouthful of fries, pointing at Kim. "Good thing you kept her around, Nick."

Tricia left them behind with their laughter, feeling happy and sad at  the same time. She loved her friends too much to want anything but the  best for them. But things would never be the same. She knew that now  more than ever.

The sun hadn't yet gone down, but it would soon. The air was thick with  summer, everything faintly buzzing. She walked down a street she knew,  then another. Intimately known streets, all strange and new. She got to  Ricky's apartment, fingered the key in her pocket. Then she got in her  car and drove off.





6





It had been a long time, and she'd only been there once, but Tricia  didn't have too much trouble finding the Volanis trailer. Mostly because  Damon was standing outside it, putting a bag into the trunk of his car.  Tricia's arrival caught his attention and he looked up, faint surprise  in the position of his eyebrows. Immediately, Tricia felt her body  responding to him, the way it had the first time they'd met. Even under  those strange circumstances  –  she'd just been rescued from her  ex-boyfriend by Cristov, and brought back to the trailer to spend the  night  –  he had made quite an impression on her.

He had the trademark Volanis eyes, deep green and expressive, framed by  black eyebrows that made them seem darker than his brother's. His hair  was black, too, and cut short on his head. He had the same beard,  scruffy and dark as midnight, around his lips.

Dark, she thought, his whole being matching his appearance, the word  seeming so appropriate. She parked, wondering if he could see her  through the windshield, if he would recognize her. She was irrationally  afraid that he might not.

He straightened up as she got out of the car, his eyebrows lowering as the surprise seemed to fade.

"Tricia," he said, voice cutting through the air between them, low and gruff and smoky. "Hey."

"Hey," she answered.

"I heard you were back," he said, moving around to the side of the car.  They took each other in, not speaking for a long moment as their awkward  greeting settled into a more comfortable space  –  it settled into that  space almost too quickly.

"Is anyone around?" Tricia asked, gesturing to the trailer. "Kennick or Kim or anyone?"

"No," Damon said after a moment. "No, everyone's out."

Tricia suddenly felt very stupid. She blushed and laughed, looking down  at the ground and putting her palm to her forehead, shaking her head at  her own dumb question.

"I knew that," she said. "I just saw them all. I don't know why I asked. I didn't … "

She forcibly relaxed her shoulders.

"I didn't come here to see anyone but you," she admitted, looking up.

"Okay," Damon said, putting her at ease with a slight smile. "Any particular reason?"

"Well … I mean … you shot a man for me, do I need any more reason to want to  see you?" Tricia asked, knowing that she was jumping right into the  heavy stuff  –  and not really caring. He could handle it. She knew that,  somehow. She had a feeling he'd handled much worse.

"That's a good point," he said, nodding, that smile lingering on his lips. "Well, I'm glad to see you."

She felt warm from his words, even though they were impersonal, polite. They felt intimate.

"Are you going somewhere?" She gestured again to the trunk, which  contained a suitcase. Damon followed her glance, stiffened slightly.

"Yeah," he said, looking back at her. "I have some business in Miami."

"Oh."

When he offered no more explanation, Tricia looked for something else to  say. She'd come here for a reason, but that reason suddenly seemed very  vague. All she knew was that he looked good. And he felt nice to be  around. He seemed like a lighthouse, when the whole rest of the world  was an ocean. Her experiences had tarnished her ability to trust; both  others and herself. But something about Damon …

"How long have you been back in town?" he asked, filling the silence between them, much to Tricia's gratitude.

"Just two days," she said, nodding for no reason. "I've been crashing on Ricky's sofa."

"Ah," Damon said. "I knew there was a reason Cristov came home last night."

"Yeah," Tricia said with a smile. "I guess Ricky doesn't want to keep me  up all night. Can't say I'm not grateful. But I don't think Cristov's  too happy about it."

"He understands," Damon said. "And if he didn't, I expect Ricky would  remind him pretty quick who's more expendable in her life."         

     



 

Tricia felt like Damon was joking, but it fell flat on her ears. She  wasn't the girl that Ricky grew up with and loved. She wasn't sure she  could still claim that place in her best friend's life. Things had  changed while she was gone …

"So how is it being back home?" Damon asked, leaning against the car  with his arms crossed. Tricia glanced away for a moment, thinking about  the best way to respond. The question wasn't loaded, but her answer  might be  –  if she told the truth. When she looked back at him, she had  that uncanny feeling that out of everyone, he was the one person who  might understand the truth.

"It doesn't really feel like anything," she said. "I mean  –  it doesn't  feel much like home. Or maybe it feels too much like home. It's  just … I'm … "

She bit her lip and looked away again. His question was the same one  she'd been asking herself for the past 48 hours. She felt like there was  a different person inside her, someone she didn't know, and that person  was still getting acquainted to her old flesh. She was getting  acquainted to seeing familiar things and having to recognize them as  familiar. The whole world looked different. But nothing had changed.